Trust Me: 50 Sophitz Kisses
by flustered dreams
Summary: Fifty oneshots, each one involving a Sophitz kiss. Whether it be platonic or romantic—on the lips or on the hand—it's happening.
1. kiss i—flower crowns

**kiss i.**

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 **disclaimer: I do not own kotlc.**

* * *

 **pairings &characters: sophie, fitz, sophitz**

 **genre: romance, fluff, comfort**

 **rating: t for strong language**

 **summary: flower crowns are just cliche plot devices.  
but could they actually bring sophie together with someone?**

 **a/n: sophie and gang are older in this**

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Sophie never understood why making such silly items out of plants could be considered "fun" or even "a hobby." But she had come across people who very much enjoyed making them.

In her opinion, flower crowns were simply a cliche plot device for fluffy romance novels or rom-coms. They shouldn't be a real thing in the actual world because who has the need for an abundance of wilting, dying flowers tied together that you place upon your head?

They seemed to die almost as quickly as Sophie's relationships.

She'd gotten quit the slander and hate from people in her town when she'd come out as being proudly bi. She didn't think the elves would have something against any of that type of stuff, but apparently they were just as torn as humans were.

Over the years and years she had lived between elves and humans, she had become accustomed to the shaking realization that no matter where she went, she would never escape unfair and bizarre prejudices.

She was happy to live in a place where skin color and wealth and even gender didn't matter - but when you took that away, you got a serving of other shit down your throat. They had problems with multiple births, talents, and now who people were allowed to love.

People made it very public that they were not happy with Sophie coming out to everyone about who she liked. She didn't understand why they thought she was simply confused - how could she be confused? Who you love is who you love. And if she was confused about liking girls, that logic had to be equally applied and she could say, "Well, then I must also be _confused_ about liking guys."

She had known that elves were capable of bullying and harassment, but she thought it would extremely less than what humans were capable of. Part of her was right - she was sure humans could do much worse. Part of her was wrong - they had done stuff she had deemed impossible for elves.

One guy even took her out for a fake date and publicly humiliated her. However, the night ended pretty well because the moment word had spread, Fitz, Dex, and Keefe had leapt over immediately and Biana and Linh had followed with concerned looks and comforting hands or shoulders to cry on at the ready. Dex offered a hug.

Sophie had shrugged it off as Keefe followed the guy who was storming off, the blond boy claiming he had to take care of some "trash" and that he would be back momentarily.

She had recieved so much love and support from her friends that the air felt like and sludge-like as all the love wavered around. They all ended up going out together after Keefe returned with a grin, cradling his one hand.

Sophie shook her head at him. "You didn't hit him, did you?"

"Well, if you're wondering if I resorted to violence first, the answer is no. He threw the first punch, so I was technically defending myself. But do not even think for a moment that I did not find joy in beating the shit out of him."

She rose an eyebrow and he chuckled. "Okay, it was one punch, but I feel like I did pretty good."

Sophie rolled her eyes. But she was smiling as she said, "Come on, doofus. We're all eating out at Atlantis together."

All of her friends had been there for her that night. Linh hugged her and Biana told her she would gladly threaten anyone she needed. Tam was as supportive as he got, and Keefe made an effort to make her smile as much as possible, even if it was through forced humor.

And then there was Fitz.

He'd seemed so adorably concerned for her that she couldn't help the familiar blush that rose on her neck and was some glance that he continuously sent her way that night, and she couldn't place her finger on it.

She nearly lost it when she saw him go up to the bar counter and order a drink, biting down on his lip in boredom as he waited. Then his eyes flickered over to hers and she _swore_ he gave her heart palpitations.

With her heart beating out of her chest, she'd crawled into bed and had laid in the darkness, earbuds playing music softly into her ear canals as she imagined what it would be like to be with him. She often daydreamed that he was hers whenever she looked him in the eyes or shared a semi-special moment.

She treasured the times he could make her flustered without even trying. It felt so good and she felt so. . . bubbly and high up in the clouds. It was weird what falling for someone did to you.

It was just another day, sitting out in the warm sun on the soft knolls of grass near Calla's tree. It was a few weeks after the whole date-gone-wrong incident and she needed a breather from filling out job applications.

She'd plucked a few of the flowers she had planted near the house from the ground, on the way to the panakes. They were teal by her choice, for reasons she had had a hard time casually explaining to her parents.

Grady had asked her about it with a raise eyebrow, implying exactly what she had _not_ wanted him to imply. She'd fumbled for an answer and had rattled off the lamest excuse, trying her best not to turn pink or stutter.

A small flash of light brought her from her daydreaming and the warm breeze blew her hair around her face as she looked up and squinted lightly at the figure who had light-leaped directly into one of the pastures near to her. With a traitorous flutter from her heart, she knew who it was almost instantly, and she focused on listening to the distant crashing waves to keep her mind from wandering to fluffy thoughts.

She thumbed the flower stems in her hand, causing the petals to twirl around and around. Fitz approached silently, hands in his pockets as he looked down at her. She marveled at how tall he had always been in comparison to her and how he never seemed to stop growing.

"Hey," she said quietly, figuring it was best to start off the conversation herself. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear that kept persistently and annoyingly blowing in her face and tickling her nose. She kept her eyes mostly down cast as she messed with the flowers in her hands. "What are you doing here?"

Fitz shrugged, finally taking his hands out of his pockets as he squatted down, looking her in the eyes. "Wanted to see how you were holding up. That guy isn't still bothering you, right?"

Literally? No, he wasn't. Mentally and emotionally? He was still messing with her head and even her heart.

But all that came out was, "I'm fine. You don't need to worry." It wasn't snappy, but rather very soft. She hadn't meant to sound as. . . defeated or tired as it had come out.

He exhaled through his nose, wringing his hands. "You're absolutely sure? I can take care of him if you need me to."

She smiled, feeling the familiar heat begin to rise on her skin. "I can handle my own problems. I'm strong enough to - as Keefe so generously put it - 'take out the trash', if need be."

Fitz's corners of his lips tugged upwards lightly, trying to contain his smile at her teasing. It vanished quickly as he swallowed, still very clearly worried. It only heightened her anxiety at how nervous he was acting.

He frowned and grabbed her wrist so suddenly that she didn't have the time to react, wincing when he hit an extremely sore and tender spot. It felt like he was pressing so hard that he was down to the bone.

She tugged her hands away, cradling the stinging, swollen wrist as he shook his head, trying not to believe what he was seeing.

He reached out, slowing when she flinched away. He lifted hi eyebrows a centimeter or two, and she swallowed, letting him take her wrist back. He held it with soft, delicate fingers as he examined the purple, finger-shaped bruises.

His frown etched deeper every second longer that he stared, and he caressed the skin with slow, light circle from his thumb. He stole a glance at her Cognate ring. "He did this, didn't he?" he questioned softly.

Sophie shrugged sheepishly, holding the flowers tightly in her one hand as she stared at the grass, avoiding eye contact. He clearly didn't accept the shrug as an answer, so she blew out a breath and blurted, "I tried to pull away and get away from him. He grabbed my wrists. I bet he doesn't even know how hard he held, so it wasn't really his fault. I'm fine. Please don't do anything stupid. Not for me."

The plea floated on the wind and Fitz's frown was beginning to be something Sophie was seeing often. At least for the day.

He looked directly into her eyes so intensely that her heart rammed against her rib cage wildly. She avoided looking up at him for as long as possible until he lifted his hand and his knuckles brushed against the bottom of her chin. She looked up at him and swallowed, pulling her wrist away and blinking profusely, trying to avert her gaze from his.

She started twinging her fingers, nervously braiding the stems of her flowers together as she stared down at the teal color, realizing it had nothing on his own vibrant, pristine aquamarine eyes. They were oddly similar to gems. How was that even possible?

He placed a hand on top of hers, realizing she was shaking from trying to braid too quickly. she expected him to say something like, "being bi is okay," or, "we all support you," but instead he took a very different route.

He flashed a charming, roguish smile that spiraled her stomach into a cacophony of butterflies. "Do you realize you're making a flower crown?"

She looked down. "I wasn't trying to. I was just twisting and tying," she replied honestly.

He grinned. "Do you have anymore flowers?"

She sheepishly pointed to the pile against the trunk of the tree. She had been a little stressed and had possibly been a bit too much tugging. She'd destroyed the flowerbed she had worked so hard to keep alive, all because she was mad at a thick-headed douche bag.

He got up and walked over to the pile of flowers, grabbing them up and sitting down next to Sophie in the soft grass. It felt like it had been so long since they had just sat under the calming, graceful tree and let the petals fall down around them and watch the sky.

He started twisting and braiding just like she was, his hands working swiftly and diligently. She wanted to ask if he had a lot of practice and experience with making flower crowns, but she swallowed the joke, too afraid to break the silence that had settled between the two. unfortunately, Fitz didn't feel the same.

"So," he said, "where did you get these flowers? I don't remember seeing any of these around."

She cursed him for observing everything so well. "I planted them," she answered honestly, too tired to think of an excuse. As long as he didn't ask her why she chose that color. . .

He gave his stupidly charming, handsome smile that set her nerves on fire as she focused on threading her stems together more quickly, to keep up with him. "I'm surprised that you took the time to plant flowers. No offense, it just. . . Doesn't seem like you?"

Sophie shrugged. "I wanted to try something new, I guess."

She didn't want to admit that her obsession of him was reaching concerning levels, considering she took the time to make a flower garden full of blossoms that were his eye color.

She finished her crown a few seconds after him, smiling happily at her work. it wasn't picture perfect, but she had never done it before and she was fairly happy with her results.

He tugged a little on the flowers of his final product, flickering a small smile in her direction. Her heart did some sort of pitter-patter as she glanced down at her flower crown momentarily, looking back up at him and lifting her hands. She placed it on top of his head, giggling as it drooped and went sideways on his head. The color contrasted with his dark hair and made his eyes pop even more than she thought possible.

He gave a dorky, shy smile. "Well, how much of an idiot do I look like right now?"

Her lips tugged upwards. "You don't look like an idiot! You look cute," she promised. It took her a moment for it to dawn on her what she had blurted, and her cheeks flushed a deep red. "Sorry, I-"

He leaned over and closed the gap between them, his lips melding with her own. she sucked in a small breath, unsure of how to respond to the soft kiss she was receiving. Her eyelids eventually fluttered closed and they pulled back a few times, every time returning to gently pressing their lips together.

His mouth lightly coaxed hers into moving in sync with his and she couldn't focus on anything as her head grew dizzy and her body tingled.

He finally pulled back far enough where they both wouldn't lean in again like they had been doing, taking in Sophie's half-lidded eyes. Hers slowly grew larger and her cheeks erupted in sweltering heat, blossoming everywhere. She covered her mouth. "Oh my gosh, I-I didn't - I didn't mean to. I'm sorry," she apologized quickly.

It took him a minute to respond or snap out of the trance he was caught in. He adjusted the flower crown that had begun to fall down the side of his head, pushing it farther up on his head of dark hair. He brushed a few of the strands off his forehead, pink shading his cheeks and tips of his ears.

Surely he wasn't. . . No. In all the years she had been with him she had _never_ seen him blush.

He picked up his expertly made flower crown and laid it down on the crown of her head softly, letting his hand trace down the side of her jaw as he dropped it. He smiled. "I'm the one who initiated it. And. . . I'd rather say I liked it."

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 ** **a/n: soft fitz is superior****


	2. kiss ii—battlefield

**kiss ii.**

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 **disclaimer: I do not own kotlc.**

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 **pairings &characters: sophie, fitz, (kind-of platonic/kind-of romantic)sophitz**

 **genre: hurt, comfort, angst, _depression_**

 **rating: t for death**

 **summary: please don't leave me**

 **a/n: the song "meet me on the battlefield" by svrcina will be used in this chapter, as well as "burning house" by cam.**

 **also my writing sucks so please forgive me for pushing this awful stuff upon you.**

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 _No time for rest  
No pillow for my head  
Nowhere to run from this  
No way to forget_

Fitz searched frantically for any sign of her, realizing he had completely lost all trace of her in the mass chaos of the tragic attack.

The Neverseen had struck once again, and this time no one had any clue. There had been absolutely no wanting signs and everyone had been caught off guard.

His heartbeat pounded in his ears as he sprinted through the burning building, trying not to get hit by any of the drops of jewels that were turning into some molten lava-based puddles. The smoke choked and stung his lungs like stabbing needles coated in acid, but he ignored the pain and tried to figure out where she was.

Because she was alive. And she was fine. Even if she was hurt in any way, she would be just fine.

He would make sure of it.

. . .Because she was the one who had distracted the Neverseen when they had been so close to getting him.

And because he needed her so desperately. It was _impossible_ for him to live on without her in his life. Impossible for him to live on without her smile, her laugh, her eyes, the soft feel of her hair, the welcoming caress her mind always offered, her cute nose, her hands holding his, her breath on his cheeks, the hue of her blush. . .

He shoved open every door of Everglen that he passed, screaming out her name, not caring that he was watching his childhood burn right in front of him. All he cared about was her. He needed to get her out of, get to somewhere safe.

He gasped for breath, choking on the smoke filling the air. Soon enough he wouldn't be able to breathe. Soon enough he would pass out, fall into a seamless oblivion, and burn with the rest of everything.

His head was getting more dizzy than he would have liked, but thoughts of Sophie meeting a terrible fate kept his mind clear and his legs moving.

He tried calling out for her telepathically and aloud, but he never got a reponse. And his knees were growing weak. All he wanted to do was collapse and be able to take a breath of clean air.

And then he heard it; A chest that was being wracked with wheezy, bone-rattling coughs. That same chest gasping for breath and repeating the process of coughing as their lungs filled with the smoky air.

He ran into the room, shoving open the door and covering his mouth with his sleeve as huge billows of smoke filtered into the hall. His eyes stung with tears and once he blinked away the blurry haze that covered his vision, his teal eyes landed on Sophie's crumpled form.

She had propped herself up against the guest bed on the floor, a fistful of the sheets in her hand that she used to cover her nose and mouth with. Her other hand was to her ribcage that was relentlessly being violently shaken with her coughing.

"Sophie!" Fitz exclaimed, noticing the way his voice had turned hoarse.

 _Around the shadows creep  
Like friends, they cover me  
Just wanna lay me down and finally  
Try to get some sleep_

He ran to her side, dropping to his knees as he wiped some black ash off her cheek. It smudged like charcoal and she blinked her eyes slowly, the fire glinting in the reflection of her iris'.

"Hey," he said softly, "we're gonna get you out, alright?"

A flicker of a smile twitched at his lips, relief flooding his hot, sweaty body over the fact that he had finally found her. She'd be okay.

She returned it with the smallest, but most gorgeous smile he had ever seen and his that was all the reassurance he needed.

He took the sheets out of her hand, intertwining his fingers with hers. Her hand was moist with sweat, but he couldn't exactly be disgusted or surprised as they were in a burning building and she had been grasping the sheets with a vise-like grip. He reached for the other hand on her ribcage and she coughed, choking out a strangled, "S-Stop!"

She whimpered and her face contorted in pain as he stopped trying to pry her soaked hands from her chest. "We need to—"

He cut himself off as he stared at his hands which were coated and slick with blood, the iron smell burning his nostrils. His heart thumped in his chest as he let out a shaky breath as he looked at her blood-drenched top. "Oh-Oh my _god_."

 _We carry on through the storm  
Tired soldiers in this war  
Remember what we're fighting for_

A small river of blood steamed down her chin out of the corner of her mouth, and he noticed her blood-soaked tongue and stained teeth.

He let out a shaky breath, raking his bloody hand through his dark hair. "W-We'll get you out. I can carry you or something. Come on, we need to put something over it. Bandage it up."

"Fitz," Sophie rasped as he took the bed sheet and began ripping it into strips of cloth. He didn't listen, quickly preparing the make-shift bandages to apply to her wound. It would stop the bleeding long enough for them to get to Elwin, and then he'd give her some medicine and she would be just fine. He'd fix her like he had countless times before. This was just another near-death experience that they would be teasing her about in a few months.

Heck, he had been stabbed in Exile. This was no different. She'd recover just like he had, and just like she _always_ did. Because she was strong like that.

" _Fitz_ ," Sophie strained, making some sort of gargling noise as she coughed up more blood.

Her beautiful eyes were glazing over and he found his vision growing blurry with his own tears. "No," he choked. "Don't even think about that. It's not happening, do you hear me? It's _not happening_."

Fitz shifted his position, gathering the strips of the bed sheets. He reached out and gingerly took her clutching hand away from her chest, with a lot of her added protests. "I have to take your shirt off or something to get to the. . ." He swallowed. "Here, I don't want to move you too much, but this still might be a little uncomfortable."

She moaned and hissed in pain when he sat her up higher, leaning her forward slightly as he grasped the fabric of her top, ripping it. He ripped around her torso in a circle, trying to get it as below her bra as possible, just in case that made her uncomfortable or something. At first the thought felt weird, but then he reminded himself why he was thinking that way.

Because she was getting out of here alive, come hell or high water.

 _Meet me on the battlefield  
Even on the darkest night  
I will be your sword and shield, your camouflage  
And you will be mine  
Echoes of the shots ring out  
We may be the first to fall  
Everything can stay the same or we could change it all  
Meet me on the battlefield_

He looked at the gushing wound, oozing blood down her stomach. It absorbed into the waist-line of her pants, licking up the blood like a sponge.

He bit the inside of his cheek and picked up the cloth strips, beginning to wrap them around her torso.

"Fitz," Sophie whimpered. He sniffled, pain shooting through his heart at how in pain, how defeated, how terrified, how. . . _ready_ she looked.

"We're _not_ giving up. You're not giving up. Don't you dare give up on me like that. Don't do that to me. Not to your parents and our friends," he begged, choking on a sob.

"Oh, Fitz, " she croaked, reaching up and caressing his cheek with a bloody thumb. He lifted his arm and grabbed her hand, pressing it firmly to his face, nuzzling it as tears streamed down his cheeks. The salty liquid mixed with the dust and grime on his face, making trails.

"Don't," he sobbed. "Please don't."

"You have to accept it, Fitz. I have. But you're here, okay? I get to tell you goodbye now. I'm so, _so_ happy that I get to tell you goodbye. Please be happy with me," she whispered, her hands dropping. He grabbed them, leaning down and burying his face into them, kissing her knuckles. Any other time he could have imagined her blushing like crazy from the gesture.

But not now. God, not now.

"Don't leave me," he said, sobs bubbling in his chest. He was a blubbering mess by that time, not even thinking about the fire crackling in the background, or the smoke that was burning his lungs, or the sweat that was running down his back. "Stay," he begged.

"Oh," she crooned, wheezing a little. She squeezed her eyes shut for a second and let out a small dissatisfied grunt of pain, her breathing becoming far too shaky. "Don't cry, Fitz. I'm happy, remember? I'm really, really happy and you don't have to be sad, o-okay?"

She pulled a weak smile, looking so utterly guilty that she was making him cry. All while she was slowly slipping away.

 _No_.

"Can you tell them I said goodbye? Please? I love them all so much and I want them to know that. I love _you_ and I want you to know that."

He shook his head so hard it should have been painful, furiously wiping away a tear as he started tying the bandages again. "You don't have to say goodbye. Not yet. Not today."

He looked so adorably determined that any other time Sophie would have gushed. She wheezed again, and more gargled noises filled the air. "We can't fix this. Not this one."

"No. No! We're going to get you out if it kills me. _Me_ , not _you_ because you're all that matters. You matter so, _so_ much and you're getting out and we're taking you to Elwin. And then you're going to be on bed arrest for a few weeks and I'm going to be right next to every day right along with everyone else."

He was aware that he was rambling, and his salty tears managed to run down over his lips and into his dry tongue.

"Can you take Ella for me? And Biana and Dex can share Iggy." She gave a weak attempt at a laugh. ". . .They'll take good care of him."

The last part came out softer.

 _We're standing face-to-face  
With our own race  
We commit the sins again and our sons and daughters pay  
Our tainted history  
Is playing on repeat  
But we could change it if we stand up strong and take the lead_

Her wound pulsed and she cried out, wincing and hissing as pain overtook her body. Blood pooled out and ran down her stomach, soaking into her pants waistband.

He tied another strip of cloth around, taking her face in his hands when he finished. "Stay for me. Stay. Just hold on. I'm going to pick you up, okay?"

"Fitz," she whispered, shaking her head as her eyes drooped. He sniffled, not caring that he looked like a fool while crying.

"I'm sorry that I never shared my secret with you like I said I would. I held us back," she whispered.

"No," he said, " _no_. You never held us back. Never."

Sophie leaned into his hand on her cheek, fluttering her eyes closed and smiling softly. It flickered away quickly, replacing her expression with pain. "Please don't remember me for what I held back from you. Remember me for what I shared with you. Promise me that, won't you?"

He was very aware that her voice was growing slurred and she was wheezing with every breath she took. He didn't want the last thing she heard to be them arguing.

"I promise. God, I promise."

 _When I was younger, I was named  
A generation unafraid  
For heirs to come, be brave_

He paused, staring her in the eyes for a second. And then he was sobbing again and he was kissing her and it just felt so right.

He pulled away, relishing the breathy hiccup-laugh she gave in response, her eyes blurring with tears that mirrored his own.

He picked her up in his arms, retracing the steps he had taken through the maze-like halls that had all been burned black. Each footfall grew faster and he kept glancing down to make sure she was okay, and each time he found her nuzzled into his chest with half-lidded eyes. She was listening to his heartbeat, and he could feel the rise and fall of her chest against his own.

 _Hang on. Just hang on. We're almost out_.

The house was growing especially stuffy with the sweltering heat and his skin felt like it was burning, and his eyes were stinging, and he was sure his lungs were going to give-way any second. But then they were out.

He collapsed to his knees, taking in the fresh air and gripping Sophie tight. She was gritting her teeth and she shifted uncomfortably in his arms and lap. "Where are they?" she asked quietly, coughing violently again.

"They should be somewhere around here. I don't think they'd leave u—"

He cut himself off when he noticed silhouettes by the tree line. He excitedly pointed them out to Sophie, noticing how she smiled adoringly at his giddiness. The tears started flowing again, but this time because he was _happy_.

He waved an arm to signal to them and transmitted that they were out and that Sophie needed help.

Fitz turned back to Sophie clutched in his arms when Alden verified that he had gotten the message and that they were coming. "You're gonna be fine now. See? I told you."

She giggled, and for once he didn't see the pain shining in her eyes. "You told me so."

 _And meet me on the battlefield  
Even on the darkest night  
I will be your sword and shield, your camouflage  
And you will be mine  
Echos of the shots ring out  
We may be the first to fall  
Everything can stay the same or we could change it all  
Meet me on the battlefield_

Alden, Della, Biana, and Keefe arrived to the scene a few seconds later, out of breath from running. Elwin, Edaline and Grady, Dex, and even Tam and Linh leaped to the scene a few seconds later, glittering into view on the purple grass.

Elwin spotted Sophie and immediately ran over, ordering Fitz to lay her down on the grass as he dug out millions of vials from his kit.

The next few minutes were absolute chaos, with people asking Sophie and Fitz _tons_ of questions like how they were and how they ended up getting out. Then there was the occasional worried protests from Biana, suggesting that they should maybe move Sophie and everyone further away from the burning mansion. and there was Elwin ordering Sophie to take a thousand elixirs, and there was Fitz who was helping her stay mostly upright and swallow them. He helped Elwin unwrap the cloth strips from around Sophie's lower ribcage and down onto her stomach, assisting him as best he could to ensure Sophie stay comfortable as they went through the entire procedure.

When it was all done, everyone helped Sophie stand as best as they could, helping her wobble over to near the tree-line, so they weren't so near the house.

They all sat in the grass, Edaline and Grady hugging Sophie tight and sitting near her. _Everyone_ huddled together on the soft knolls of grass, watching the house go up in flames.

Sophie sniffled a little, turning to Fitz. He flickered his eyes to her, waiting expectantly for her to say something.

"Don't you think we should talk about that kiss?"

Fitz's eyes widened, his mind replaying the private moment on repeat in his head. He blinked in a ghastly sort of manner, caught off guard by how Sophie hasn't even tried to hide it from everyone else. Wasn't she embarrassed or something? Didn't she want to talk about this in private without an audience full of basically everyone they knew?

Everybody was watching him expectantly, and Sophie was blinking slowly, waiting for his reply. She wasn't at all flustered by the topic she had brought up in the presence of everyone that it hadn't involved.

That wasn't something Sophie would just outright do. What was happening?

"I. . ."

He swallowed when she pursed her lips , frowning. "You couldn't save me," she said quietly.

"W-What? I don't understand."

She gave a dazzling smile, but it looked pained. "I'm sorry. You need to wake up, now. "

"Sophie, I don't get any of what you're saying right no—"

 _"Wake up."_

And then she was gone. They all were.

 _I had a dream about a burning house  
You were stuck inside  
I couldn't get you out  
I lay beside you and pulled you close  
And the two of us went up in smoke_

Fitz fluttered his eyes open, wincing when they stung from the heat, coughs wracking his chest. He heard a joyous, half-strangled laugh and felt a shaking, wet hand try and wipe the sweat off his forehead. "Oh my god. You're okay. Wake up, please. You have to get out of here."

Fitz slowly sat up and turned around to face the person, his eyes settling on Sophie, who was giving him a very concerned look. He looked around frantically in confusion, realizing that he was still in the bedroom. And that he had just woken up, his head laying in Sophie's lap. And Everglen was still on fire. And Sophie—

Sophie was still clutching her lower ribcage with a shaky hand, blowing out an uneasy breath as blood relentlessly drained from her body. "You've gotta go. This place isn't going to wait much longer. It's already been way too long—"

"What happened?" he asked breathlessly, grabbing her hand frantically. "What happened? You were out. You were okay!"

Sophie frowned sadly, sniffling as she squeezed his hand. "Fitz, you basically passed out for a few minutes there. You were hallucinating. You're not safe yet. You need to _get out_."

 _Hallucinating_.

It wasn't real. None of it had been real. At least, _some_ of it hadn't been real. At some point reality had been cut off and his dreams had taken over where they'd left off.

He checked her torso, finding her ripped top and bandaged wound. Thankfully that had been real.

She pushed him with her free hand, wincing at how that surprisingly strained her wound. "Go. Right now."

" _Sophie_ —"

"This isn't up for discussion! You're going to die if you stay here!" she shouted angrily, a sob suddenly bubbling up in her chest. It took a few seconds but she turned away from him, avoiding eye contact as her lip began quivering. She winced in pain as she started blubbering, shaking her head miserably. "I'm scared," she admitted through her tears. "I'm _so scared_. I don't want to go. . . I don't wanna go. . ."

Fitz found himself crying with her, all hope beginning to leave his body. Maybe this was just. . . How it ended. Maybe this was their story.

He leaned forward, cupping her face in his hands and kissing her through the tears. He didn't know whether the last time he did it was all his imagination or if it had really happened, but either way he wanted to do it again. One last time.

When the broke apart she was laughing again, even though it hurt her. "You already did that, you idiot," she mumbled, tears streaming down her cheeks that were turning red from the heat.

He laughed breathlessly. "I don't care. I really don't care."

They were both smiling adoringly at each other, but then Sophie's eyes faltered, peering down at her legs. "Fitz," she gasped, gaining his attention.

He slipped his hands off her velvety cheeks, putting room between their bodies in order to look and what she had been looking at. "What is it?" he asked.

Then he noticed the new, fresh blood that was soaking down into her lap. _"Holy—"_

She lifted a bloody finger, pointing to his stomach. She blinked a few times, and disappointment flashed across her face as she looked at him, frowning. "I told you not to die here with me, Fitz. I told you to get out."

He peered down, his eyes trained in the blood seeping through his shirt and dripping down into the floor. He shuddered. "I–I don't. . . I don't understand. I wasn't—you were the one who—I never. . ."

She shook her head slowly in dismay, eyes glittering. "I'm _gone_ , Fitz. And you need to wake up."

He shook his head, not believing what he was hearing. "No. No, no, no! "

 _"Wake up."_

 _Love isn't all that it seems  
I did you wrong  
I'll stay here with you  
Until this dream is gone_

"Fitz," a voice beckoned. "Fitz, lift a hand if you can hear me. Or a finger. Or just say something. _Anything_."

But he couldn't move. Everything in his body ached and stung and it just _hurt_. Everything was in pain and there was no way he could move.

"His heart rate changed," a voice announced. "He's either awake or dreaming again."

 _Dreaming_.

He winced when light pressure was put on his shoulder, and his voice cracked. His mouth and throat were extremely dry, so he could barely make any sound.

A chorus of thrilled, overjoyed voices started exclaiming happily or crying or asking questions or—

It was just so much _noise_.

And people were hugging him or holding his hand, and then they suddenly all went away as a voice commanded everyone to move aside.

Glass flattered and he heard a few corks crudely popping. "I'm going to need you to swallow this for me. Are you ready? One, two, three."

He felt a vial press against his lips and he did his best to swallow the contents as it was tipped back and the cool liquid sloshed back and down his throat. A bit dribbled down onto his chin, but a cloth wiped it away a second later for him.

He mustered the strength to open his eyes, and they landed on his parents, his sister, his friends, and even Grady and Edaline. They looked relieved, but we're a little more standoff-ish than the rest of the group, who was practically suffocating him.

Everything came crashing back in a sudden headache, his head pulsing and throbbing with the vivid memories.

"Where is she?"

 _I've been sleepwalking  
Been wandering all night  
Trying to take what's lost and broke  
And make it right  
I've been sleepwalking  
Too close to the fire  
But it's the only place that I can hold you tight  
In this burning house_

Alden and Della blinked, stumbling for words. Biana shook her head, lip trembling. Keefe looked away. Dex stared at the ground. Grady tightened his hold on Edaline's shoulder.

Alden blew out an uneven breath, taking his son's hand in his. His eyes grew a little misty and he admitted so softly that he barely heard, "You two were caught in the house. We found you with your head laying in her lap in the bedroom. She was sitting against the bed, and. . ."

Fitz didn't need him to continue. He knew too well what message he was trying to get across as subtly as possible. But _nothing_ could lessen the blow.

He had been trapped in a dream for however long he was out, replaying his last moments with her and filling in the gaps of what might have happened had he not passed out.

The smoke must have been too much, he guessed. He took in too much, and the added panic of trying to stop Sophie's bleeding had overloaded his senses.

A sickening thought dawned on him about Sophie's last minutes and he looked around the room, his vision growing blurry as tears filled his already puffy, droopy eyes.

 _She died alone._

She died alone and afraid with only his limp body, all because he had failed to get her out.

Sophie Foster was dead.

. . .And nothing in the world mattered anymore.

 _Flames are getting bigger now  
In this burning house  
I can hold on to you somehow  
In this burning house  
Oh and I don't wanna wake up  
In this burning house. . ._

* * *

 **a/n: i always forget that it's canon that everglen has purple grass. same with foxfire.**


	3. kiss iii—skittles

**kiss iii.**

* * *

 **disclaimer: I do not own kotlc.**

* * *

 **pairings &characters: sophie, fitz, sophitz**

 **genre: humor, fluff, romance, au**

 **rated: t for fAsT kIsSes dON't yOu jUdGe mE**

 **( oh yeah also some strong language and a mention of sex. but guys _sex is just apart of life so calm down and live with some suggestive wording)_**

 **summary: there's no way to make up for stolen skittles. end of discussion.**

 **a/n: sophie and fitz are human _because i can_**

 ** _(also they're ancient fudges bc they can't stay smol teenagers forever)_**

* * *

It was a big decision to go out of town, get the cheapest, shittiest place available and become roommates. They signed up for college classes online and became each other's support—literally. They both got multiple jobs to try and get by, and if one failed to come home with something they needed, the other always seemed to provide.

It was a good system and it worked, much to Sophie and Fitz's delight. They had both been very fearful that it wouldn't work out.

Sophie could recall their conversation about getting a place to share. Both were struggling financially and neither wanted to take up on their friend's offers to crash at their places or take some of their money. The thought alone had been embarrassing, even though they were very generous offers.

Sophie and Fitz were good friends, though, so she guessed it was probably just natural that they worked well living together. They had similar ideas on cooking and cleaning and arrangements and tidiness, so it worked pretty well. But. . . Sophie found that she felt like a caged animal when she was there with him.

It wasn't because Fitz could sometimes develope a temper if something went wrong (in fact, that was another example of how well they got along together, because she always managed to calm him down).

It was because it felt like a trap. Every second she stayed in that enclosed space with him, she felt herself falling deeper and deeper for the boy she'd known since her youth. It _terrified_ her how much she cared for him, her heart right out on her sleeve just waiting to be stabbed brutally.

And. . . Fitz had just started driving her _crazy_ lately, as if he noticed the spark of heat she felt pooling in places she probably _shouldn't_ whenever he'd casually stroll around the small apartment without a shirt. Or, the the way her heart skipped a beat when he gave her gentleman-y kisses on her hand when he'd playfully hold open the door for her, eyes twinkling as he peered up at her. Or the way he maybe noticed how heat would crawl up her skin when she noticed him reading a book on their couch/bed, making cute little expressions or biting his lip. _Or_ maybe he noticed the way she'd toss and turn at night, occasionally flickering her eyes to where his figure lay on the other side of the uncomfortable excuse for a mattress (seriously, why did they pick the _most_ uncomfortable couch that could fold out into a bed?).

Some tiny part of her hoped that it was because he mirrored her excessive, throbbing feelings, but the rest of her screamed at herself that she knew better. Falling for someone felt so amazing until you found out that person felt. . . Much different.

So, she swallowed the crush that was twisting into something way more, and reminded herself that if she never came out and told him, she wouldn't get rejected and she could carry on thinking all of his cute gestures were meant for her.

It was crazy how much he had started to consume her thoughts, too, along with everything else. It was like he always there, buzzing in the back of her mind. She was unable to take out the thought of holding his hand in public, kissing him proudly in front of anyone else who wanted him, going on mock dates with him.

She had to admit she'd even had thoughts of. . . Intimacy with him, and it extremely embarrassed her to think about him finding out she had dreamt about it a few times.

Of course, back to her _previous_ point, she liked thinking about non-sexual forms of intimacy just as much.

Talking with each other in the dark, watching movies together, cuddling, feeding each other, stealing each other's clothes, scratching each other's backs, playing with and running their hands through each other's hair, tracing patterns on their skin, pressing their foreheads together, bathing together, hugging, linking arms, tickling, dancing, taking care of each other when they're sick, cooking together, sleeping next to one another, brushing or combing their hair. . .

Fuck she was really deep in.

How was it possible that she couldn't go five measly minutes without her mind managing to stray to thoughts of him? It wasn't fair, in her opinion, that she had to spend every waking minute of her day being distracted by such a cute human being. Did he realize it was fucking illegal to be that adorable? Good _God_.

Maybe she could find a way to stop it. Develop another crush on a different guy or girl and—

Wait. She was doing it again. She was doing it right now.

She blinked out of her trance, trying to push away all thoughts of him as her mind registered the fact that they were sitting back-to-back on the couch. She was listening to music through the rose-gold headphones he had bought her for her birthday (damn she loved those things) and he was engrossed into another novel—one of which she had actually recommended to him.

He noticed how she tensed because he shifted so he could look back at her a little more comfortably and she pushed pause on her music, slipping off her headphones.

He tugged on her ponytail playfully. "Hey, why the sad face?"

"I look sad?" she asked in surprise.

He shrugged. "Or. . . Anxious. Something like that. Is anything bothering you?"

He leaned over to the coffee table, setting his book down. It barely meant anything, but the fact that he seemed so ready to listen to her set her heart on fire.

She shook her head, the her ponytail brushing against the back of his neck. He lifted an eyebrow and she sighed, setting down her iPod next to his book and getting up from the couch.

She pulled the oversized olive knit sweater she had on further down her body, making sure it wasn't too far riden up. She had underwear on underneath, and she had a right to walk around half-naked just like he did, (she swore he lived half his life without a shirt on) but it still gave her goosebumps to think about being so. . . Uncovered around him. Especially with the way he was looking at her.

With the way he _always_ looked at her.

She started rummaging through the small cupboard of their tiny kitchen, aware his eyes were boring holes into her back. Their apartment could barely even be called an apartment, it was so small. Everything was one room, besides the bathroom that was tucked away.

She frowned when she didn't find what she was looking for. Hadn't she put them right there? Surely they were somewhere.

She became a bit more frantic in her searching, and Fitz chuckled from the couch. "What are you doing?"

She grunted in disapproval, shaking her head as she started rummaging back through the same cabinet she had just checked. She swore she'd put them there. "I'm looking for my bag of Skittles."

There was a little guilty intake of breath and Sophie paused, slowly rising from her crouched position, where she had resorted to searching the cabinet where they kept the toaster and pans.

"Fitz. . ." she drawled out, turning around leisurely.

He gave a sheepish smile from the couch, cringing. "I didn't know they were yours."

"Who else's would they be?! We don't exactly have someone else living here!"

"It was 3 a.m and I saw Skittles! What other response am I supposed to have either than _eat_?!"

"Boys are like vaccums, I swear! All you do is eat! Is there a black hole down there?!"

"I don't know, _maybe_! I haven't checked in awhile!"

 _"Ohmygodohmygodohmygod."_

Sophie buried her face in her hands, trying to think about anything other than strangling her roommate. Those Skittles were the only thing keeping her semi-sane through college.

Fitz's face looked pinched like he was trying to bite back a laugh. "Aw, I'll get you some new ones. Okay?"

She didn't answer, running her hands down her face and settling them in her hips, shifting her weight from foot to-foot.

After a few seconds of silence, Fitz piped up, "Sophie, I'm sorry. Please talk to me. Soph? Sophie? C'mon, you know I'm sorry." Sophie would have thought he was being genuinely sincere, has he not still been looking like he was trying to hold back laughter.

"Sorry doesn't bring back my fucking Skittles, _Fitz_."

He burst into laughter, his chest vibrating and sending tingles up her spine. She loved his laughs even if he was using it after something embarrassing she had done.

But who could blame him for laughing? She looked so precious, even though she was trying her very best to point her best death glare in his direction. "Oh, I'm sorry," he crooned, finally catching his breath. His laughter stopped as he blew out a slow breath, giving her a dazzling smiling. He got up from the couch, walking over towards the kitchen.

"C'mere."

"No," she huffed, still pouting. She started walking away from him as he tried to approach her. "You're insane. You took my Skittles, therefore you've officially condemned yourself to hell. There is no going back."

He chuckled as she tried to storm away, speeding up and capturing her wrist before she had the chance to lock herself in the bathroom and hide away. She liked to do that when she was angry, he had learned. That way he had no restroom and he had to apologize first, so then he could actually have access to a toilet.

She swung around, still pouting as she tried tugging her hand away half-heartedly. She wasn't legitimately angry with him—she was probably just soaking it up for sympathy—but she still had narrowed eyes.

"You're a Skittle stealing asshole," she muttered as he pulled her nearer.

"I'll make it up to you," he promised, though this time it came out softer than intended. He grabbed her waist to prevent her from escaping as she twisted her wrist free, and time seemed to stop.

Fitz's smile faded and Sophie's angry facade crashed down, her honey eyes widening as she realized the weight of the situation.

Sophie's heart rate accelerated and her body pulsed with energy at the feel of his fingertips holding her waist. She put her hands on his chest, intending to push away or keep the space between them.

She tried to think of something to say, but his heady gaze was so fixated on her, watching her with some sort of absolute wonder. As if she was something new—something special—that he was beginning to see for the first time.

He watched her intently as his arms pulled her closer to his body, breathing a bit more heavy as the seconds ticked by and Sophie let out a sharp intake of breath. She squirmed uncomfortably in his arms, getting flustered.

"Fitz," she whined, half-way not enjoying the attention. She didn't like when he teased her or messed with her, as if he knew it drove her wild. This was just going too far.

He didn't say anything, locking eyes with her for a brief moment before allowing his heated gaze to flicker to her mouth. He bit his lip and she felt his hands slide off her waist, much to her disappointment.

Part of her felt good without the intimate contact, but then the rest of her was—

His hands lifted and brushed against her cheeks, snapping her back to reality. He gently cupped her face, his hot breath eminent on her cheeks and she blinked at him in utter shock, not fully ready for any of what was about to happen.

She was going to open her mouth to ask him to stop, because she wasn't in the mood for his games, when he cut her off as if he knew. He slowly leaned down, capturing her lips in a soft kiss.

She sucked in a sharp breath, unsure of what to do at first. But then her instincts gave way and her eyelids started fluttering as she kissed him back.

And he pulled away.

All too soon, Sophie was staring back up at him, hands on his chest as he pulled his own fingers out of her hair. They were both struggling to catch their breath, even though they had barely been kissing for more than a few seconds.

"I'm sorry," he apologized, a little red. "Are you sure you want to—"

She interrupted him by grabbing his shirt in two fists, tugging him down sharply and smashing their mouths together. Fitz's body entire completely froze in shock for a few good seconds, trying to register what had just happened as Sophie stood up on her tiptoes to deepen the kiss.

It didn't take long before Fitz was kissing her back again, and they were practically devouring each other with desire. Sophie was barely able to think throughout the whole ordeal, her mind buzzing and her body thrumming with energy as Fitz suddenly started pushing her bacwards.

Inside their heads, they both knew it probably should have been a more gentle kiss, but they were far too into it by then, and soon enough Sophie's back crashed into the wall.

She whimpered against his mouth, both of them pulling away every few seconds to pant for breath before returning to their kisses like magnets. Sophie almost giggled at how sloppy they were getting, because she was sure she had gotten a mouth full of teeth just a second ago.

They were kissing so desperately that Sophie's body practically curved into Fitz's, and she was very aware of how much her body temperature had risen. She wrapped her arms around his neck lazily, completely losing it when she fluttered her eyes open for a second to find Fitz burrowing his brow as he kissed her passionately, a low grunt or moan sound reverberating deep in his throat.

His hands slid down her back so gently that at first she didn't notice, but then his fingertips pressed under her sweater, drawing gentle circles across the bare strip of skin. She broke the kiss with a gasp, involuntarily shuddering as he leaned into her with drooping eyelids, their foreheads brushing.

"I don't want to have sex," she blurted breathlessly, panting from the wild moment they'd had . "Not. . . Not yet."

He laughed, eyes twinkling as he smiled, rubbing more slow circles on her skin. "I wasn't asking for sex. I just wanted to kiss you. God, I've wanted to kiss you for so long," he mumbled, leaning in and touching the tips of their noses together.

His voice was a little hoarse after the intense kissing session, which made heat blossom on Sophie's cheeks.

She fluttered her eyelids in surprise as his words sunk in, twirling the hairs at the nape of his neck as she chewed her lower lip. "You're. . . Actually fine with not having sex for a little while? Isn't that all guys want, though? Because. . . I don't think I'm going to be ready for awhile."

She squirmed again in his arms and he held her tight, smiling warmly and sending a fresh surge of electricity rippling through her body. "We don't have to have sex to feel good or have fun. And I don't mean that in a sexual way—unless you want it to be," he added, causing her cheeks to deepen in their color.

"Expremienting wouldn't be so bad," she admitted sheepishly, her face practically on fire as he lifted up his hand gently rubbed her cheek with his thumb.

He nodded. "We'll take everything slow. Okay?"

"I can handle slow," she agreed quietly, neither one of them moving from their current position. Fitz still had Sophie firmly pinned to the wall, but neither one of them minded that their bodies were melded together.

"So. . . Does this mean we can make it official? Would you be my girlfriend?" he asked, giddiness seeping into his voice.

A modest hum played in her throat as she lazily lifted a hand, brushing her thumb against his lower lip as she chewed on her own. "Maybe after you replace that bag of Skittles," she teased.

He snorted, rolling his eyes as she giggled. "Fair enough."

* * *

 **a/n:**

 **i keep telling myself that i'll make these shorter and then i _always end up—_**

 **also i was listening to now or never while writing this just because sjsksjsksj**

 **fite me**


	4. kiss iv—bumps

**kiss iv.**

* * *

 **disclaimer: i do not own kotlc.**

* * *

 **pairings &characters: sophie, fitz, sophitz**

 **genre: fluff, hurt, comfort, romance, au**

 **rated: t for strong language**

 **summary: sophie mysteriously goes missing for 6 months.**  
 **fitz is determined to find her.**

 **a/n: sophie and fitz are still elves, but i like to imagine it where all the stuff in the book didn't happen besides, err... them being cognates and (NIGHTFALL SPOILER!) marella being a pyro 'n' all that jazz (SPOILER OVER!)**

 **of course, that's just me and it even seems weird for myself to try and imagine that, so if u wanna just think of it as if all of the stuff in the series did happen, go right ahead.**

 **oh! and i imagine fitz being 20, and sophie being 18.**

* * *

Fitz had always loved and been fascinated with the stars. They gave off gentle, reassuring light and were always there - a symbol of peace and serenity. They always returned, no matter how many times they left. Now Sophie? Sophie left.

But she didn't come back.

He kept telling himself that maybe tonight was the night that she'd show up at his door, moonlight glistening on her hair and shoulders as she waited outside the gate at Everglen for him. Even though he had since moved out of Everglen, he still imagined himself there in all of his dreams.

 _Dreams_.

Each night it was the same one over and over: Sophie showing up out of the blue and hugging him, holding her arms around him tight and burying her face into his chest as she began explaining what happened. Why she left with no reason or warning, blindsiding everyone who cared about her and her well-being.

Of course, with every dream her explanation for her disappearance changed, since Fitz didn't actually know the real reason she had left.

After months of sitting around and expecting Sophie to just show up at his doorstep, he'd given in and had decided to look for her on his own. The Council themselves had been trying and the more Fitz looked into it, the more he noticed they had been losing hope and had gotten very slothful in their search for her.

But he was determined to find out what happened to her and to find out where she was.

After weeks of sleepless nights and caffeine as his only companion/motivator, he'd scrounged and scowered over every human police record he had thought possible, (with the help of Dex retrieving them, of course). He'd guessed that Sophie wasn't in the Lost Cities, because someone would have noticed her by then. She was much too easy to spot with her golden hair and chocolate eyes.

After grueling hours and days and weeks of endlessly trying to find some trace of her, he'd finally pin-pointed a promising lead.

The girl in their stolen records had showed up in the bustling large human town right around the time when Sophie had gone missing, getting a cheap apartment and getting employed at a small shop nearby. She was even around Sophie's height and age, too.

Dex had called up camera feed for him from where the girl lived and worked, such as the traffic or parking lot cams, and Fitz had found that dressed in dark, baggy clothes as if to avoid attention. Her head was always cast low as if she knew someone was looking for her.

As if she didn't want to be found.

There was a plethora of other supporting facts and arguments for the case, so Fitz decided to make his move and find out what was really going on. If it wasn't Sophie, he'd just ramble off some lame excuse on the spot and say he thought she was someone else. Then they'd go their separate ways and Fitz would keep looking, feeling a little peace on knowing that he'd at least narrowed down the list of "suspects".

And if it was in fact Sophie. . .

That was what he didn't have a plan for.

Part of him wanted to take her by the arm and drag her home, wrap her in a blanket and lock her away in a room so she would be safe and wouldn't get herself into trouble. The _other_ part of him wanted to shout and demand answers and cry and hold her and ask her why she left. Why she hurt him so much by disappearing without so much as a simple "goodbye" written on a piece of paper.

So, here he stood outside of the small brick building where the girl lived, pondering how he should approach the situation. He knew he would either have to buzz in or get approved by some person at a front desk, so he toyed with the officers badge in his hand. Fat droplets of rain plopped onto his shoulders and sloshed all over the ground, but he didn't even care that his uniform was going to be soaking if he stood there much longer.

All he had to do was walk in, say he had been sent to search the place or investigate her or some crap, and then he could find out if it was really her. Easy, right? Just in and out.

In one scenario he'd leave with Sophie, the other he wouldn't. What was he so afraid of? If it didn't end up being her, he'd just keep looking. It was as simple as that.

He sighed and shoved his hands in his pockets, walking up and swinging the door open. He entered the apartment complex, running a hand through his damp hair and settling his teal eyes on a man who sat behind a counter. He had salt and pepper hair and round glasses that sat on his pudgy face, but part of him still gave off a "don't mess with me" type of vibe. Fitz couldn't place his finger on what it was about him, but he knew the man was fierce and determined and passionate when it came to the right things. He was good reading people like that.

The setup reminded Fitz of a hotel lobby and he approached him, glancing at the wooden door that had a placard with a picture of stairs on it. Seeing as Fitz had never been in the place, he was sure he couldn't make it by bolting - no matter how fast he could run. He didn't even know what apartment number the girl lived in.

He studied the run-down place, looking at the frayed carpets and stained walls, coming to the conclusion that this definitely wasn't a state-of-the-art building. It wasn't even very modern by current standards, with the wooden doors instead of glass and the fact that there wasn't a placed to buzz in.

Fitz approached the front desk, pulling out the fake ID and badge he'd made just for the occasion. He was hoping the uniform, license, badge, and uniform would be enough to sell the lie, because if the man asked to see his patrol car, he was screwed beyond belief.

"Good evening, officer," the man greeted, standing up from his chair. "How may I help you?"

"I'm with the James County Brownsville Police Department and I'm going to need to ask you a few questions," he said smoothly, trying not to stumble over the words. No matter how much he'd googled how to introduce himself correctly as an officer of the law, he couldn't find the correct or official greeting for approaching someone.

The man tensed, but placed his hands on the counter and exhaled slowly. "Of course," he finally replied.

Fitz began putting his identification away as he asked, "Am I allowed to know what I'm involved in?"

He nodded and cleared his throat. "You're more or less involved," he admitted. "Rather, a person in your building. Do you recognize this girl?"

He tugged the fake missing poster out of his pants, unfolding it and revealing the black and white picture of Sophie. The man squinted at it and started taking it all in, so Fitz continued, "Subject is a Caucasian female, eighteen years of age. Blonde hair, brown eyes, 5' 2". She has a star-shaped scar on the top of her left hand."

The man massaged his forehead as if he suddenly developed a pulsing migraine and he sighed heavily, handing back the flyer with a sad look in his eyes. "What kind of trouble is she in?"

"So you know her?" Fitz asked, re-folding the paper and crossing his arms as he rose a curious eyebrow. He completely ignored the man's question, hoping he would answer truthfully so then he wouldn't have to drag it out of him. If he could just convince him to lead him to her apartment, or call the girl down to the lobby so he could talk with her, it would make everything _so_ much easier.

The man nodded, much to Fitz'z relief. "I don't know if she's exactly who you're looking for, but I have a girl here who almost entirely matches your description. She get into something illegal, or. . ?"

His shoulders were stiff as if he was afraid of the answer, so Fitz quickly clarified, "No, nothing illegal. Subject ran away from home, we were lead here."

The man looked at him in a manner as if the answer was too simple. His eyebrows pressed together and his lips twisted into a frown. "I'm guessing he sent you here? He filed her as missing and wants her back home?"

The man lifted an eyebrow suspiciously when Fitz didn't answer. Rather, he stared and blinked as if it were new information.

". . .Her boyfriend?" he continued. "She lived with him? She told me he was abusive and that's why she ran off. Isn't he the one who reported her as missing?"

When Fitz nodded after a moment of silence and stillness, the man elaborated on the topic. "You can't bring her back to him. Not even if he claims he has custody over her."

Inwardly, Fitz wondered why the alleged boyfriend claiming he had custody over an eighteen year old human being would make any difference, but he decided not to ask him about it. He was supposed to be the officer that knew everything about the case, but so far he was blowing it.

"I need to see her," Fitz said, cutting to the chase. "Is there any way you could take me to her or you could get her down here?"

The man seemed to take a moment to ponder the request, thinking over every alternative possible. It seemed like an eternity before he answered, "I don't think it would be best for her to come down. I'll. . . take you up."

He started shuffling through some desk drawers underneath the counter and Fitz noticed how he always tried to keep an eye on him, glancing up briskly and then ripping his eyes away just as fast. He couldn't blame him for being wary, though - Fitz hadn't given very convincing forms of identification, and his performance had definitely _not_ been stellar. But that didn't matter.

All that mattered was finding Sophie.

He eventually pulled out a key and came out from behind the front desk, gesturing towards the door with the symbol of the stairs. They walked up a few flights of stairs before coming across the floor they needed. The whole way the man tried to make small talk and kind of explain how he had gotten to know the girl.

He said that she lived in 221 with another girl. Originally it had just been the one girl in the room, but then - a few months ago - he said that Sophie (or, Fitz wanted to assume that it was Sophie) showed up and moved in.

She had befriended him and he had gotten to know that she was 'on the run from an abusive relationship', as she had chose to put it.

Fitz soaked in the information quietly, taking mental note of everything the guy was telling him. He was trying to prepare himself for Sophie or whoever he was about to see, trying to steady his nerves and go over what he would say, but he just couldn't get a grasp on any of it.

All too soon they had stopped at apartment 221 and Fitz found himself holding his breath as the man put the key into the lock and it made a satisfying click after he turned it. He pushed the door open after one last wary look back at Fitz, and called out, "Lizzy!"

"Otis?" a female voice responded from inside the rather dark apartment. Granted, it was night out, but there were only a few measly lamps turned on. It did make the apartment feel cozy and warm, though.

Fitz studied the details of the apartment that he could see from the doorway. Otis stepped inside and Fitz decided to stay near the doorframe, because the guy looked about ready to whip out a knife and stab him if he made any quick movements. It was clear Otis didn't trust him one sliver, and was very protective of whoever was living inside the apartment.

His teal eyes scanned the small space he assumed the two girls called their living room, which was a small olive green futon and an even smaller coffee table. The kitchen was extremely tight and tiny, and he could barely imagine two people walking around in the space. It would be cramped and chaotic.

"Do you know when Remi is getting back? Peanut's been bugging me and you know how she responds way better to Remi's voice than mine, and I-"

Fitz's gaze snapped over to the doorway inside the room where a petite girl emerged, but halted and froze in place. She wore gray sweatpants and a tank top, complete with a olive sweater that ran down her. It was so long that she curled the ends of the sleeves in her fingers, and she blinked in pure shock as she stared at Fitz, who returned the gesture.

Her wild tendrils of hair splashed around her shoulders, a mix of vibrant colours. There was red beautifully mixed with gold and warm sunset pink and even a few strands of lavender. She was fairly short and her body language screamed timid and shy, but. . .

He'd know her anyone.

Those eyes. God, those eyes had haunted his dreams every night for the past six months.

He was tempted to run up and hug her, but the way that Otis' protective eyes never left the girl's form made him re-think the wish. Fitz settled for starting out his pre-planned speech, so he straightened in the doorway and opened his mouth, readying the words. But before they left his lips, his eyes landed on Sophie's two hands, which had trailed down her body instinctively. The motion drew his attention and his jaw almost fell down as he tried to comprehend what he was seeing.

 _Was that. . ._ No. Surely not.

Her hands covered her plump stomach protectively and he saw heat bloom on her cheeks, since he had noticed.

She was _pregnant_.

"O-Otis. . ?" she asked slowly, her wild eyes not leaving Fitz.

Otis approached her and took her arm, rubbing it in assurance and comfort. "You're not in trouble. And you're not going to get dragged somewhere. He just needs to talk to you."

She looked from Otis to Fitz, Fitz to Otis, and repeated it once more before she squared her shoulders and whispered, ". . .I'll be okay. I know him."

And that was all the confirmation he needed. This was really Sophie.

Otis blinked and looked back at Fitz. "You know him?" he repeated in pure shock.

"Lizzy" nodded slowly, watching Fitz with sad eyes as she took Otis' hand on her shoulder and squeezed it to prove her point. "He's a friend. I'm. . . I'm okay. Would it be okay if I talk to him privately? I just. . . I don't know. . ."

Otis seemed very skeptical still, but Sophie pulled a smile and Fitz thought his heart might implode right then and there. He'd been away from her for so long that it physically hurt him.

Otis, upon finally being convinced by Sophie, nodded to Fitz after side-hugging the blonde girl and walking out. Fitz strode in as Otis closed the door, sending one last look to Sophie.

And time held still. The room held it's breath. The world stopped spinning.

Fitz stared at Sophie - well, namely her baby bump - and he couldn't prevent his mouth from hanging open as he tried to form words. Eventually he squeaked, "You're pregnant."

Sophie chewed on her lip and affectionately rubbed her very pregnant belly, bobbing her head. There was a few more moments of silence and staring in awe before Sophie shook her head.

"You need to leave."

The words almost knocked him back a step. His eyebrows pressed together. "What? What for? You need to come home!"

Sophie's eyes narrowed. "This is my home. And I can't go back. Besides, even if I did go back, the Council would exile me. I've been in the _Forbidden Cities_ for the past six months." She sighed as if she was already exhausted with the conversation. "Just go, okay?" she snapped.

"Go?" he repeated incredulously. "I'm not leaving without you. I'll talk to the Council. And they wouldn't exile you. Especially not if you're. . ."

He gestured to her hands coddling her stomach and face pressed in anger. "I can't go back!" she shouted, raising her voice. It startled him at first, even though he was across the room near the front door.

"I'm better off here. And I can't just leave Remi."

"Remi?" he asked.

Sophie huffed as if she was annoyed that she had to explain. "Marella," she clarified. "Marella is Remi. She's been hiding here with me. She's a pyrokinetic and. . ."

"That's a forbidden talent," Fitz finished when she paused.

Somehow Marella hiding in the Forbidden Cities so then she wasn't locked up or something was way less of a revelation to Fitz in comparison to finding out Sophie was _pregnant_.

"Thanks Captain Obvious," she sneered, pulling his eyes away from her stomach. "Now get out. I'm not asking you again. Go home. And don't come back. Don't send anybody here, either."

She started to walk back into the bedroom and in a panic, Fitz started taking long strides towards her before she could slip into the other room and lock herself in the bedroom. "Sophie-"

She ripped her hand away when Fitz grabbed her wrist, taking a step back in terror. A wave of pain shot through his heart, but he almost couldn't blame her. She looked so different to him that it felt weird in its own way, and the hadn't seen each other in so long that being this close just felt unnatural. Maybe even wrong.

But he was going to fix that. He was going to bring her - and Marella - home and they were going to go back to living their lives like they had before. And he would get the story as to why she left and how in the world she got. . .

His mind flashed to all the cute, fun moments they'd had together before she had disappeared. Going on dates, cuddling, falling asleep with each other, bathing together, laughing, playing stupid silly board games, watching movies together, baking together, kissing, holding hands. . .

And he instantly remembered the last time he had seen Sophie. The last time they had been together before she left.

That was also the first time they. . .

 _"Birth control doesn't always work, you know."_

 _Her voice was taut with drowsiness and her gorgeous half-lidded eyes gazed up at him as she rubbed her thumb in circles on his cheek._

 _He smiled. "Hey, you've been through a lot. The world isn't gonna do that to you, so don't think that way. I'll take care of you. Nothing bad is going to happen. You trust me?"_

 _She blushed and fluttered her eyelids before whispering, "Okay."_

Fuck.

Had that really. . ?

"Birth control doesn't always work," Fitz murmured.

Sophie said nothing, still caressing her belly with her hands.

Fitz let out a shaky breath, running a hand through his hair. "That - That's my _kid,_ " he stammered in absolute shock, gesturing wildly to her stomach.

Her face hardened. "No. This isn't your kid. Why would you even-" She cut herself off, rolling her eyes. "Just because you sleep with me doesn't mean this is automatically _your_ kid. I took a DNA test and it's not you."

"Oh really? Then who is it?" Fitz asked, not buying it. Sophie wasn't the kind to just mess around or sleep around with random people - and she wasn't one to cheat. They were still together when she disappeared, and judging by how full her belly was, she was around five to six months. Which meant she had been pregnant when she'd fled.

The timeline added up.

She shook her head. "It's not you, okay?" she barked.

"Who is it, then?" he repeated, growing impatient with the fact that she had ignored his question int he first place. "Tell me whose kid you're having then, huh? Come on, then if you're so certainly not lying. Give me a name!"

It sounded like a challenge, but Sophie bit her tongue as she scowled at him and his anger began to actually boil a little. She narrowed her brown eyes and they both stared each other down, not backing down from their ground.

"I don't owe you a name, _Fitz_. It's not your damn child! Now get. _Out._ "

"No," he said firmly. "I need to know why you left. Did you think I wouldn't help you with this?" he asked, voice growing a little soft at the end.

He expected Sophie to snap back with another, "It's not your kid! Leave us alone!", but instead she griped, "You're such an _idiot_ , you do realize? _God._ "

She shook her head and lifted a hand to pinch the bridge of her nose. "I just. . . I don't understand you sometimes! You're so - so - oblivious! I helped you! I fucking saved your ass by leaving! Don't you see that?!"

Sophie glared at Fitz, who stood without saying a word. A solid fifteen seconds passed before Fitz blinked.

"I get it now," he said softly. When she looked at him, her face painted over with confusion, he elaborated for her, "The guy that let me up here - he said not to bring you back to him. And then he said, 'not even if he claims he has custody over her.' At first I thought he was referring to you when he said her, but he meant. . ."

Sophie's hard, angry face faded and she uncomfortably shifted and rubbed her hands along her swollen abdomen again.

"They're a girl," Fitz finished after a second of silence, some sort of awe in his voice as he looked at her in soft, adoring wonder.

Her anger vanished and she stuttered, "Y-Yes, but. . . You need to go. I'm serious, Fitz. Stop side-tracking me."

She huffed a little and he took the moment to study her face, loving how adorable she looked whenever she pouted without realizing it.

"You said you were keeping me safe?" he asked, causing her to look over at him.

She nodded numbly. "You're so dumb," she mumbled when he clearly didn't get it. "Don't you even understand what would have happened if I'd stayed? If I'd had the baby and people found out it was our-"

She cut herself off, watching for Fitz to react to the words. But he'd already known, so he stayed mildly quiet and waited for her to muster the courage to keep talking

Her cheeks flushed pink as she muttered, "You're a _Vacker,_ Fitz. If people saw you being held back by a knocked-up girl. . ."

The words drowned out as she looked away, avoiding all eye contact.

Fitz swallowed. "That was what made you leave? Public image?" he asked incredulously. A tight lump formed in his throat as he thought over the painful nights, the terrifying thought that she had left him or that she was dead, the recurring nightmares. . .

"Sophie," he whispered, voice tightening. It caused her to look over at him. "That's our kid. And you left. I _loved_ you. Why would you ever leave because of a stupid social status? I don't care if people would have said bad things just because we're young - that's still a living being inside of you. That's a little girl we made. And you're my girlfriend. I love you. I wouldn't ever push you out of my life."

She sniffled suddenly, eyes welling up with tears. It fascinated him how they'd switched moods so quickly. They'd gone from semi-okay to angry to sad. Was this sad? Was she crying because she was sad? Or were these happy tears?

She shook her head miserably. "I didn't know what to do," she blubbered, voice thick as she wrapped her arms around herself. She choked on a sob. "I was scared. I didn't know if you were going to leave or how everyone would react. And what about us? Even if you had stayed with me, would it have changed us? Raising another living person is hard. And were you really ready to confidently tell me you could step up and be a dad? I have trouble taking care of myself - I don't. . . I don't know what I'm gonna do when she comes along. . ."

The rest of her sentence dissolved into tears.

"Sophie. . ." Fitz crooned. "Please don't cry. I'm right here. I'm not angry at you for leaving and I promise I'll help you. You're gonna be fine. Please don't cry. . ."

She covered her mouth, walking over and hugging Fitz. More than shocked, he tugged his arms out and wrapped them around her, holding her flush against his body. He didn't care that she was getting tears and snot all over his fake officer uniform, he was just. . . Overwhelmed with everything that was happening so fast. Too fast for him to process.

Sophie was six months pregnant, Marella and her had been living in a small apartment for that time, and the Council was _not_ going to be happy or in any way merciful for the two.

Holding his sobbing girlfriend in his embrace, determination spurred in Fitz's soul and hope sprung in his heart like a coil. He had a family now.

And he was going to do everything he could to protect them.

Fitz tangled his hand in her dyed hair, leaning over and kissing the top of her head. "You're going to be alright, you hear me? We'll get through it all."

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 **a/n: i ended it here bc i didn't like what i was writing jkskjsksj**

 **it sucks omfg i want to end myself**


	5. kiss v—intoxicated

**kiss v.**

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 **disclaimer: i do not own kotlc.**

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 **pairings &characters: oc, sophie, fitz, sophitz**

 **genre: humor, fluff, romance, au**

 **rated: t for suggestive talk**

 **summary: dealing with sophie while she's drunk is a dangerous situation to be caught in. it's best to tread carefully.**

 **a/n: sophie and fitz are human** _ **jssjsjksk**_

 **also i've added a soft fitz in here (kinda). hope you like!**

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Fitz sat down on the scratchy couch of his apartment, not really sure what he was supposed to think about the day.

Had it gone good? No. Had it gone bad? Not particularly. College was as good as college could get, as he liked to put it.

Balancing college and his two jobs was not easy, per say, but he supposed he was handling it fairly well. In fact, he was pretty proud of himself. Between all the things that life was throwing at him or forced him to put up with, he managed to complete the job and survive life in the process.

Skilled, much?

Maybe he didn't give himself enough credit for all that he did. It felt weird thinking about himself in a high wag, but so much of his life had been filled with self doubt and insecurity, so maybe the bit of self love that we beginning to dawn on him was. . . Really a good thing.

Fitz nearly jumped out of his own skin when a knock reverberated on the door. He checked the time, frowning when he noticed that it was 2:00 a.m. What would someone be knocking on his door for?

He got up from the couch begrudgingly, meandering over to the door in no hurry whatsoever.

He unlocked the latch, foolishly choosing not to first look through the peephole, grabbing the doorknob and swinging open the door.

His eyes fell on a unfamiliar girl, with luscious short, hair and tan skin. Her electric blue eyes contrasted with the rest of her, popping out and sending a jolt to anyone who looked into them. She wore a nose-ring and tight dress, and had an overall _'don't mess with me'_ vibe.

Fitz blinked out of the trance of her eyes, finally noticing she had another person's arm slung over their shoulder, completely supporting their totally limp body with her other arm snaked around their waist.

The girl that the dark-skinned stranger was holding was the complete opposite of her in every way possible.

She had light locks of hair like strands of gold woven together, and her peachy skin glowed under the light of the hallway. She had brown eyes and a rather short dress clung to her petite, lithe frame. It hugged and squeezed in places that forced Fitz to shy away from gutter thoughts, the dress showing off every one of her supple curves.

Standing side-by-side, the two girls were night and day.

And that was when it hit Fitz: he knew this girl.

That was Sophie Foster, his former highschool classmate and crush. She'd joined Foxfire High as a junior, and Fitz had immediately been enraptured and utterly taken by her, no matter how much he tried to deny it.

The girl with the dark hair puffed out an exhausted breath, shifting so that the blonde girl wouldn't drop to the floor, who was wobbling in her tall, strappy black stilettos. She was mumbling to herself, looking like she was in a dream state.

"Finally! Here you go," she groaned, shoving Sophie forward.

Fitz sucked in a sharp breath and stumbled to catch Sophie, gathering the incoherent, half-asleep girl in his arms as the light hue of his blush settled onto his face. He'd never had this much physical contact with a girl—much less the girl he had been into only two years before—and it made him mushy.

He'd seen her a couple of times throughout the past two years by complete accident, sometimes running into her at the most random places like Panera. And he'd gotten in touch with her after scouring the internet to find some form of social media that she was on.

And then he'd figured out they were attending colleges that were pretty near one another. Fate much?

 _But_ they'd never really had a good, normal conversation with one another.

He'd tried while they'd been in school, but he mostly got so flustered that he had just switched back to making jokes and fumbling around to impress her or make her laugh or at least notice him.

"W-What are you—"

"She's _really_ drunk, in case you can't tell. I couldn't just let her drive herself home, so I asked her where she lived. The only address she could remember was this one." The stranger only shrugged, as if it wasn't their problem anymore.

Fitz blinked. Sophie knew his address? Sure, he'd sent it once in a long text asking if they could set up a time to meet, but she had never replied and had left him on seen. He'd basically given up on advancing her after that.

Maybe she had been planning to come over. Or maybe she had been cancelling plans or trying to see what time would work.

Was she just nervous like he was? Did she actually have an interest in him?

He shut the thoughts down. After years of liking the girl, he needed to get over the silly crush. It was just destined that everything was bound for a crash.

"You _do_ know her, right?" the girl asked.

Fitz forgot the entire English language at that point, stuttering like a fool. He tried to form coherent words, but every futile attempt failed. Eventually he closed his mouth, swallowed, and then squeaked, "Yes, but—"

"Great! You can take her home when she remembers where that is in the morning."

Sophie started whining in his arms and he shifted his hold on her so that she was standing up as straight as she could, holding her against his chest. Her hands suddenly lifted a grasped his shirt in two fists, her face pouting as her gorgeous eyes fluttered open.

His heart rammed in his chest, forgetting the entire world as she looked back at the girl.

"You're leaving me?" she whimpered.

The girl pulled her deeply painted lips into a smile and outstretched her hand, patted Sophie on the head. Her only reply was, "You have fun with that hangover, sweetie."

Fitz opened his mouth to protest, but then the girl started briskly striding down the hall, pulling out her phone and completely forgetting about what she had left behind. She turned the corner and disappeared, leaving Fitz with Sophie.

He exhaled slowly and stumbled backwards, trying not to drop the girl. She wasn't completely limp, thankfully, trying her best to walk forward with him. She found her footing like a child did with their first steps, giggling suddenly as she pushed away from him.

He grabbed her wrist, unsure of whether or not she would just suddenly pass out, leaning and pushing the door shut.

"Sophie, where do you live?" he asked.

She simply hummed, looking down at her feet as she swung one. "Mm, I'm not sure."

"Where's your phone?"

She hiccupped. "Must've lost it," she shrugged, a goofy smile on her dazzling face.

Fitz's heart skipped a beat at the ditzy grin. She swayed and he jumped forward holding her upwards by the waist. He turned red at how close he was to her, their bodies pressed together. If he just leaned forward and she tucked her head under, he could rest his chin perfectly on the crown of her head.

She fluttered her long, dark eyelashes that brushed across her cheekbone. Fitz swore every time they made contact with the skin, that they would leave behind dusty bits of charcoal that would sprinkle across her cheeks like constellations.

His fingers dipped into her sides and she squirmed, laughing at how it must have tickled. He could feel her breasts and her stomach through the material of her dress, and it made his stomach flip in ways he didn't like. Her body vibrated with laughter against his and he forced himself to get a grip, even as his mind safely tucked away the memory of her adorable laughter.

She smiled up at him, grasping onto both his biceps. She stood up on her tiptoes, rising towards his face. She got so close that he felt her hot, panting breaths on his chin and lips. She wobbled in her heels, struggling to stay up without falling over.

"You look cute," she complimented, chuckling at how the tips of his ears turned red.

"Sophie, don't say things you'll regret in the morning," he scolded lightly, embarrassed. "You're drunk."

She let out an unsatisfied, "Hmph," her stomach and chest pushing against his body with the sound. He struggled to keep her a safe distance from him so that she wouldn't label him as a pervert in the morning, and she dropped back down off her toes to her normal height. She barely cleared his shoulder, even in her heels.

Sophie winced at the motion, biting her lip and squeezing her eyes shut. She swayed from foot to foot, trying to put the least pressure she could on each of them.

Fitz peered down, eyebrows pressed together in confusion as he observed her feet. Her toes were pinched and red in the shoes and he sighed.

"Sophie, why the heck would you wear these things? They look like medical torture devices. _Look_ at your feet."

He said it with such worry laced into his words that when she lifted an eyebrow at him, his heart stuttered in fear. He didn't want to be showing her his feelings, but she was drunk. Surely she wouldn't remember anything.

She looked down at her swollen feet for a second, a frown gracing her lips for half a second before she quickly recovered, looking back at him.

She smiled innocently. "They make me look cute. And tall," she explained coyly.

Sophie was being so adorable and open that it almost made Fitz less angry. He wasn't specifically angry at her, he just didn't like the fact that the alcohol on her breath, the skimpy dress hanging off her shoulders, and even finger-shaped the bruises on one of her wrists implied she had been attending a rather. . . Different party.

It was college, yes. And people went to parties. But Sophie wasn't one to willingly go to a late-night rager with booze.

He knew she had most likely been pressured by a friend, and when she arrived she thought that was the end of it. Then she'd been pressured into drinking. And she'd gotten into it.

However, necessarily speaking, she didn't need to have a ton of drinks to get herself drunk—to his knowledge, she hadn't drank before and she was exceptionally small, so her body couldn't handle that much intoxication.

Fitz shook his head and with a sigh, he bent over and scooped her up bridal style. She squealed and giggled in delight, begging him to spin with her. He ignored her, _not_ wanting her to spontaneously throw up.

He carried her into his bedroom, flicking on the light to the best of his abilities and setting her down on the edge of the bed. She curiously watched as he gathered some of the clothes scattered on the floor, tossing them into the hamper in the corner.

When he turned back to her, she was wincing at the fluorescent light, rubbing her eyelids and trying her hardest to let her delicate eyes adjust to the sudden light. Without a word, he flicked off the light and turned on the lamp in the corner, shaking his head.

What was he supposed to do with her? Hopefully she would just go to sleep and then he could drive her back to her dorm or apartment in the morning.

He blew out a steady breath, running a hand through his dark hair before crouching down in front of her. She instantly clamped her legs shut, rubbing her thighs together, her eyes wide. "What are you doing?" she blurted timidly, leaning back on her hands.

Many situations ran through his mind, most of which he knew he _shouldn't_ be thinking about, and he reached his hand out silently. He took her ankle, gently tugging her foot closer to him.

She blinked in response, letting her tensed body relax. He began undoing her shoes, shaking his head in clear disapproval at her pinched toes. But he didn't scold her like he had earlier. Rather, he slipped them off without any words exchanged, very aware that her fawn eyes were trained steadily on him the entire time.

She laughed suddenly, flopping backwards on the bed. Fitz got up as fast as he could when Sophie started squirming around, not wanting to get a glimpse of anything under her dress.

"Mm," she mumbled, snuggling one of his pillows close to her. "I'm tired."

Fitz nodded in understanding, more than tired himself. He could imagine that she was exhausted as well, if not way more. He went into his closet and dug out the biggest t-shirt he had that was clean, approaching her with it.

"Will this work? Or do you want me to find some pants? They might be. . . Very big, though."

She bobbed her head up and down, her soft curls cascading around her shoulders. A sudden devious smile curled her red lips and Fitz rose a suspicious eyebrow when she rose up off the bed, stumbling towards him. He caught her in his arms again when she nearly fell forward on her face.

He opened his mouth to try and ask her what she was doing, but was interrupted when she grasped the collar of his shirt and sharply tried to crane herself up towards—

"Sophie!" he squeaked in terror, becoming utterly flustered at her rapid, unpredictable actions. He took her hands and pulled them off his shirt, pulling his head back from her advances. "Sophie, stop it! You are _not_ going to like remembering this in the morning!"

She frowned, stooping down from her tiptoes as nuzzling her chin to his chest, staring up at him with a sleepy, haf-lidded gaze as her plump lips pouted.

"Don't you like me?"

The question was enough to knock him back a few steps. How was he supposed to answer that?

"No. Yes. Kind of. Not like that—I mean, unless you're okay with that. Wait, you're not. You're drunk. No? I don't know. Maybe in the future. Wait, what an I saying? No, you're my—"

"Fitz," she whispered, trailing her hands down his chest to the planes of his stomach. He grabbed her wrists with one hand, stopping her at the waistband of his pants.

" _O-kay_ , time to get _you_ into bed," he announced, sweat prickling the back of his neck as he felt his heart thumping in his throat. Why did she have to be so damn persistent? It was as if she _knew_ it was driving him wild.

She rose a teasing eyebrow and he thought over his wording.

 _Oh, for—_

"That is not what I meant and you know it! Just—Just get changed already, wouldn't you?" he stuttered, a blushing mess as he gave her the shirt.

He decided it would be best not to leave her alone in the room, for fear of her falling over and cracking open her head or something bizarre, so he walked near the corner. He stated at the lamp he had turned on earlier, focusing solely on his heartbeat and the lump in his throat.

"You _sure_ you don't wanna. . ?"

Her voice was velvety and teasing, and he tried his best best to shut down his stupid innuendo-based brain. He could imagine the smirk on her lush red lips and the teasing, elegantly arched eyebrow. Her sashaying hips as she strode over to him with her long legs—

 _Nopenopenopenope_.

"Just please get changed," Fitz answered gruffly, crossing his arms as he begrudgingly accepted that she had a huge hold on him without even knowing it. He was whipped.

He heard Sophie huff unhappily behind him, but to his relief—or to his concern—he heard the zipper of her dress come undone. He rolled on the heels of his feet, trying his best to _not_ think about her naked form directly behind him.

"You can turn around, if you want. . ." she purred suddenly, and goosebumps prickled his skin and the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end when he realized she was _right_. Behind. Him.

He felt her breath on the back of his neck and her two hands went on his two shoulder blades.

"Sophie. . ." he warned dangerously, knowing better than to stick his hands back to try and push her away.

"I just want attention," she argued. "And you do, too."

"No, I want you to put on the shirt and go to sleep."

She hmphed and Fitz couldn't help but imagine her adorable, scrunched up face as all contact points they had together were severed, signalling she had backed away.

Out of nowhere, Sophie's dress flew past his head and onto the lamp shade, draping over it. The lamp wobbled and Fitz panicked for a second, but thankfully it stopped and didn't topple over.

"Sophie, for goodness—"

Another piece of clothing flew past him, this time smaller. Fitz knew she was just toying with him now, especially since it was her bra. Her damn _bra_.

"C'mon now," he complained. "I feel like a mom. Can't you just get in bed? Go to sleep? Do you know what _sleep_ means?"

Sophie giggled from behind him like a giddy child and her heard the creaking mattress, so he cautiously peeked back. Luckily, he found Sophie in his shirt crawling into bed. She laid down, her blonde hair spilling over his pillows as she curled up, looking absolutely _adorable_.

Her face scrunched up in some sort of displeasure and she whimpered, opening her eyes. "Will you come and cuddle with me?" she asked. "I promise I won't try anything. I just. . . Need something to snuggle with."

He couldn't help but giving in to her request as she looked so cute, but he was still scared that she would try something. Nonetheless, he pulled her dress off the lamp so that it wouldn't start a fire, and approached the bed, shoving his hands in his sweatpant pockets.

He stared down at the very sleepy Sophie. "I think I should sleep on the couch. . ." he said, mentally wincing at the light pang of guilt he felt.

She frowned. "Please? I really won't do anything. I'm serious. I just wanna hug. . ."

He sighed, realizing there was really nothing else to do. He crawled into the bed, noticing the way a hopeful smile flickered across her lips as she gratefully scooted over in a hurry, making room for him. He couldn't help the way the corners of his mouth twitched with his own smile.

She raised her arms and opened them wide, grasping her hands in a motion that signified that she wanted a hug. He blushed and snaked an arm around her waist, tugging her a little closer. She scooted flush up against him, clearly unsatisfied when he stopped and left space between the two of them.

Fitz couldn't deny that he liked the warmth of her body against his, though, so he blankly accepted the fact that she was not going to settle for just enough. He lazily laid his arm over her waist, sucking in a little breath when she nuzzled her face into the crook of his neck, her lips and the tip of her nose brushing against the sensitive skin.

She hummed in calm delight, the vibration sending a tingling up his spine as she shifted in his embrace, getting comfy. "How are you?" she asked drowsily, clearly already on the verge of sleep.

It was cute to see how tuckered out she was. He decided he liked this Sophie who was cuddly and tired and mumbled nonsense.

"I'm fine," he answered. ". . .How about you?"

She smiled against his neck, her soft breathing warming his skin. "Really good."

His lips twitched, and he lifted his hand, twining the soft ends of her strands of hair between his thumbs. He wanted to savor the moment, knowing he'd never get another one like this with her. And she was almost asleep, so surely she wouldn't remember this part.

He sat there in the silence, holding his crush—even possibly his world—protectively in his arms, enjoying the bliss, fuzzy feeling building up inside him. He inhaled her scent, resting his chin on her head of golden hair as he caressed the small of her back up to her shoulder blades in small, slow circles.

Couldn't life just always be this way?

"Fitz?" she mumbled, pulling him from his thoughts.

"Yes?" he replied, curious as to what she had to say. He ran hand through her hair, caressing her scalp. She hummed in appreciation, snuggling closer so that their bodies molded together, and he smiled.

"I like you," she murmured so softly that he barely heard it.

It took him a few minutes to register what she had said, and he stopped threading his fingers through her hair. "W-What? Sophie, I told you not to talk like that. You don't know what you're saying."

"I do, too," she yawned, lifting a lazy hand and tracing his jawline. He grabbed her wrist and gently put it back down, to which she wriggled it out of his grasp and laid it on his hip. He sighed.

"You're drunk and tired. Just go to sleep, okay?"

"Okay," she agreed softly. Fitz was surprised that she had given in so easily, but he wasn't in any position to complain. Without warning, she lifted herself up a little and pressed a light kiss to his cheek, flopping back down and cuddling close to him.

Fitz stuttered, his face turning beet red as she peppered another kiss to his neck. "You're a good guy," she mumbled. "And I feel like a little kid when I say that I like you. But I do. . . Mmph. Sorry, you wanted me to. . . To stop. . . Mm. G. . . G'night. . ."

And Fitz was left alone with his own thoughts as Sophie's breathing changed and steadied to a slower pace, signalling she had fallen asleep.

She actually liked him?

* * *

 **a/n: please! request! ideas!**


End file.
